


Nightmares

by Angelology



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, just an excuse for some angsty Gavin and some Freewood hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:16:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6447817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelology/pseuds/Angelology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a heist coming up, and after a job with Ryan, Gavin is left alone at the Fake AH base. Jet-lagged and running on not enough sleep, he ends up crashing on the couch. His dreams, however, leave him shaken up and on the verge of panic - and despite his best efforts otherwise, Ryan takes notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

He’s out with Ryan, securing a deal with another crew. The Fake AH Crew were coming up to a heist, and the crew they were negotiating with could help them with breaking into the security of the bank that they wanted to hit.

While they could do it themselves, Geoff wanted to align himself with some more crews - especially after some particular troubles with uprising crews who thought they could take on the Fake AH Crew. They couldn’t, of course, but it was worrisome enough that Geoff decided to make the effort to work with more crews.

Deal secured, they had headed back to the base on Ryan’s bike, Gavin’s arms securely wrapped around Ryan’s waist. They were in daylight, with too many other people around, for Gavin to be comfortable enough to lean his head on Ryan’s shoulder.

But he likes doing it at night, when the sky is illuminated with both stars and streetlights. When the streets are quiet, and it feels like just Ryan and Gavin are the only two in the world. Gavin just likes to sit on the back of Ryan’s bike, lean in close to him and be able to rest his head on Ryan, feeling calm and relaxed and _safe._

All too soon, they arrive back at the base. It’s empty, except for the security, all the rest out on jobs for the next couple days. Ryan’s still sitting on the bike, checking his phone, even after Gavin takes off his helmet, and just before he’s about to ask, Ryan answers the unspoken question.

“I have another job I need to get to, shouldn’t be more a few hours,” Ryan says, and Gavin feels himself pout a little.

After all, it’s rare for the two of them to get time together, when it’s not on a job, before an upcoming heist. Gavin has just gotten back from an international job, and it’s stupid, he knows, to get his hopes up about it, but he can’t help the disappointment that’s settled inside him.

He tries his best to wipe it with a reassuring smile, but Ryan knows what’s happening, _of course he damn does._

Ryan puts his phone in his pocket, takes off his helmet and kicks down the bike stand, then reaches a hand out to grab Gavin’s arm and pull him forward. After a quick glance around, Ryan’s other hand comes up behind Gavin’s neck to tug him down, and their lips connect in a kiss. _Tastes like bloody facepaint,_ Gavin thinks.

Gavin pulls back slightly, smiling, Ryan doing the same.

“Just a few hours,” Ryan reassures, then his eyebrows raise suggestively, mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “and the others definitely won’t be back by then, which leaves us _completely_ alone.”

“I’d rather not shag at the base, Ryan,” Gavin laughs, and Ryan’s eyebrows just move in a ridiculous wave motion.

“Always good to try new things,” Ryan teases, but Gavin shakes his head.

“The security won’t be happy hearing us,” he argues, looking around as if the security would appear around them.

“Oh, they’ll be hearing _you_ alright, _”_ Ryan jokingly replies, then goes to lean forward to kiss him again. Gavin lets him, but then leans back and straightens himself up rather quickly. If he has facepaint on his lips, he’s going to kill Ryan.   

“Okay, time for you to leave now.” Gavin playfully pushes Ryan back as the other goes to lean forward again. The other sighs in exasperation, but kicks up the bike stand and puts his helmet back on.

Gavin throws up a hand for his farewell, watching as Ryan rides his bike off down the street. He lingers for another moment before turning around and walking inside the base.

The thing is, about being alone at the base with absolutely none of the other crew and nothing to do, is that it’s boring as all hell. He can’t be bothered getting a taxi back to his own apartment, and ends up sitting on the couch in the base and booting up the XBox.

He barely gets through a single level before he’s setting down the controller and turning off the television, rubbing his eyes that are getting ridiculously heavy. He’s still a bit jet-lagged from his international job, and the early mornings he’s had following it haven’t helped.

Deciding it really couldn’t hurt to have a nap - and Ryan said a few hours, so he could serve as Gavin’s alarm when he came back - he decided to lie down and close his eyes.

 

_It’s the day - well, really, night - of the heist._

_They were waiting for the security to go down, waiting for the crew they had hired to do their part._

_It goes down, and their window opens up. Michael and Ryan are together, the first wave to hit the bank._

_Gavin’s sitting in wait with Geoff, both of them silent and still as they wait for news. They hear Jeremy and Jack confirm their positions, but Gavin waits with bated breath until Michael confirms they’re inside and on track._

_Gavin and Geoff move in after a few minutes, securing what they need._

_Jeremy says something, and Gavin doesn’t catch it, but suddenly everyone’s moving in a rush and suddenly Geoff and Michael are gone -_

_And it’s just Ryan and Gavin, now, but Gavin can tell there’s something wrong._

_The alarms go off, the ringing of them pounding in his head. Alarms for them, on a job like this, mean get the hell out._

_They move towards the doors, but they’re locked and then the lights are cut - and Gavin’s heart won’t stop beating heavily in his chest. His breaths are coming out quick and panicked, and it’s distracting enough that he misses Ryan yelling something at him._

_He doesn’t know how he ends up on the floor._

_It probably has something to do with the building exploding, he figures, when he sees the surrounding damage around him. There’s things burning, his eyes are watering, and his body is aching. He feels like he can’t move, pinned down by something he can’t see._

_The alarms are still going off._

_Ryan, where’s Ryan?_

_He can’t see him. He tries to move, to look around, to call out his name - but he can’t move a thing, can’t make a sound._

_Suddenly, Ryan falls down next to him. He’s pushed, Gavin realises, and whoever pushed him is crouching down now, getting into Gavin’s line of sight._

_It’s one of the men he did the deal with for the security. His eyes are quickly back onto Ryan, though, illuminated by the fires surrounding them._

_He wants to talk, to open his mouth and say something, anything, but there’s still nothing happening._

_Ryan opens his mouth, about to do what Gavin can’t, but then suddenly there’s the barrel of a gun pointed at Ryan’s head, and Gavin can only watch with horror as the man pulls the trigger._

_He can’t cry out, scream, he’s choking on smoke -_

_Choking on blood -_

Ryan’s _blood -_

_The man moves the gun, pointing it at Gavin who can’t do anything but close his eyes, still just trying to breath through the choking._

_And the damn alarms are still going off._

 

He wakes with a jolt, his eyes flinging open.

The alarms still ring faintly in his head, his heart is still pounding and it’s dark and he can’t figure out where he is. He recognises that he’s making choked, gasping noises, trying to bring air into his lungs.

He’s confused, disorientated, and it’s overwhelming his rational thoughts.

He lies there, trying to figure out where he is. He’s not back at his own apartment, not in Ryan’s -

There’s a slowly blinking red light, and he tries to focus on it. Can’t place what it is, for a few terrifying seconds, but then realises what it is. It’s light on the television, the same one in their base.

His breathing starts to calm down, slowly, as he watches the light with blurred vision. His heart isn’t calming down as easy, still feeling heavy as it pounds against his chest.

 _Not at the heist,_ he tells himself. _Not there, not there._

He begins to piece together what had happened to lead him sleeping on the couch, trying to push back the lingering images from the dream. _The deal. Ryan’s bike. Deciding to take a nap._

 _Worst bloody nap ever_ , he decides, a weak, short laugh escaping from his mouth.

It takes a few moments before he feels like he can move his arm, extending it out to try and feel about for the table he knew was in front of him. His hands are shaking, he realises, as he tries to get a grip on his phone.

Finally, he manages to find it, and is able to get a secure grip on it to pull it towards himself. He keeps the screen some distance away from his face, eyes squinting as the screen lightens up the entire room.

Blindly fumbling to lower the screen brightness, he’s able to read the time. He groans - it’s nearly 11PM, meaning he’s been out for definitely more than a _few_ hours. And it’s the worst time, really, because after a nightmare like that he knows he’s going to have trouble sleeping and it’s really not what his already-sleep deprived body and jet-lagged mind needed.

He rolls over onto his back and drops the phone onto his stomach, the light disappearing and plunging the room back into darkness.

The alarms still sound like they're ringing faintly in his head and he groans, his eyes squinting shut. His heart is calmer, at least, a slower thud against his chest instead of the pounding.

He's hit with an overwhelming panic, suddenly, when he realises he's _alone -_ and it's irrational, he knows - to think that anything has happened.

But Ryan’s not back at the base, and he never told Gavin where he was going. And there's always a chance, whenever they go out, that something’s going to happen -

That they won't make it _back._

He’s grasping at his phone, pulling it up to his face and turning the screen back on. His fingers hesitate to unlock it, but he manages to do so after a moment.

He realises he can't hit the message app because his fingers are shaking, and there's this stupid amount of fear that's beginning to turn his stomach, and he lets out a quiet hiss, annoyed that he's reacting like this.

He manages to finally hit it, the app opening and he quickly selects Ryan, who's right at the top of the contacts. He types a quick message, letting autocorrect do its work as his fingers clumsily select all the wrong keys.

**Still out? :(**

It's simple enough, nothing that conveys how bad his hands are shaking, how hard his heart is beginning to pound again.

The message delivers, but soon Gavin is watching the time at the top of his phone that's getting closer and closer to midnight.

It's been five, nearly six minutes, when he hears the small beep of the front door that means someone just swiped into the building. He's got very little time until whoever that is probably passes by, so he does his best to try and calm himself down and appear like less of a general mess.

Hearing the footsteps approach, he contemplates pretending to sleep, but he immediately shoots it down because there's a good chance someone will try and fuck with him, knowing the people he's surrounded by.

Instead he decides to close the messenger app and go into the game of Crossy Road, trying to appear as casual as he can. Like he hasn't just completely fucked up his sleeping habits _again,_ that's there's a stupid lingering fear dwelling inside him, and he can still see his hands shaking.

“Gav?” Someone tentatively asks behind him, and he sits up and peers over the couch because _hey, okay, he knows that voice._

“Ryan?” And _shit, shit, damn it all_ because he hears his voice crack, and he knows Ryan hears it too.

Ryan flicks the lights on, and Gavin’s eyes immediately shut again, blinded for a few moments. He carefully opens them again, realising there's now a threatening presence of a headache pressing against his skull, and Ryan’s suddenly a lot closer and watching him worriedly.

He's still wearing his face paint, Gavin notices. It's a little smudged, particularly around his jawline, probably from removing his helmet and mask. He's done his best, it looks like, to clear off any around his mouth - facepaint isn't exactly a great taste, after all.

“Gavin?” Ryan asks again, and Gavin tries his best to smile.

“Sorry, apparently only now going through puberty,” Gavin tries to joke, pleased his voice comes out steady. A smell suddenly hits him, and he hauls himself up to see more over the couch, seeing the plastic bags Ryan is holding.

Ryan’s still watching him carefully, but after a moment he gives in to Gavin’s distraction technique.

“I came back earlier, and you were asleep. Decided to go out and get some dinner, you texted while I was on the bike, and figured I'd just answer your question when I came back,” Ryan explains, half of it lost on Gavin who’s really only paying half attention because he's pretty hungry and also pretty desperate for any excuse to stay awake.

“Why didn't you wake me?” Gavin mumbles, turning himself back over to sit on the couch normally, leaving space for Ryan.

Ryan places the take-out on the table, moving aside the controller Gavin left there, then flops down onto the couch.

“Well, I was hoping you'd sleep through the night. You haven't exactly been sleeping properly,” Ryan answers, too busy opening the plastic containers to see Gavin’s face twist for just a moment.

“Like you can talk. Swear you're a bloody vampire,” Gavin says, taking a container for himself and grabbing a plastic fork, Ryan doing the same.

Usually they'd turn the TV on, flicking between channels until they found something amusing enough to insult. But Ryan’s not reaching for the remote, and the only noise is Ryan tapping his fork against the side of the container.

Gavin goes to reach for the remote, just to feel the silence with something else, but Ryan speaks up just as Gavin leans forward.

“So, why _are_ you awake?” Ryan asks, all serious and Gavin knows that tone of voice, that's the _we need to talk_ voice. Gavin really, really hates that voice.

“My subconscious mind responded to the proposition of food,” Gavin replies, not missing a beat. “And you, of course.”

“You're extremely jet-lagged, haven't slept over five hours in nearly two weeks, plus a couple of all-nighters. That's enough to knock someone out on a night like this for nearly a whole _day.”_

 _“_ It’s fine, Ry, I don't feel tired or anythin’. Besides, I wanted to be up when you came back.”

“Don't do that,” Ryan sighs wearily, the fork stopping its tapping against the container.

“What?” He asks, now feeling like he's definitely wrong-footed. It's not a feeling he’s familiar with.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn't use that voice with me. I'm not a client you need to convince, Gavin. I'm not a dealer who's too naive to realise you just sweet-talked him into selling him all he owns for a _crumb.”_

Ryan lets out a frustrated groan. “I'm your boyfriend, Gav, who wants to know what's going on.”

“Nothing important,” Gavin replies, after a hesitation. It's the truth, at least, because it was just some stupid dream after all. Nothing important, now, while the dream is receding back into his mind and he can barely remember the details.

The visual image of Ryan lying next to him, though, _dead -_ that's a little harder to forget.

Ryan’s eyes narrow, and he stares at Gavin for a few moments. It's unnervingly silent, and damn Ryan for not taking off his face paint because now it just looks extremely creepy and is all that more unnerving for Gavin.

It doesn't take that long for him to break under the pressure. It's a little embarrassing, really.

“Just some buggering dream,” Gavin mutters, looking down a moment before putting on a smile, looking back up and staring right at Ryan. “I told you, it's nothing. I don't even remember it now.”

Ryan takes a moment, looking at Gavin, before he frowns a little. “Yes you do.”

“Nah,” Gavin replies, dismissively. _Don't want to think about it anymore._

 _“_ That's it, just _nah?”_ Ryan presses. “I saw your hands shaking, Gav -”

Gavin cuts him off. “I don't _want_ to remember it.”

Ryan's silent, lips pressing together before he seems to relent. “Okay,” he replies, gently. “Awkward silence while we eat take-out it is then.”

Gavin just responds by rolling his eyes and huffing.

“Just turn the TV on, you creepy bastard,” Gavin says, leaning completely back into the cushions on the couch, trying to appear as relaxed as he can.

Ryan leans forward to grab the remote, flicking between the channels. Gavin isn't really paying attention to anything but awkwardly stirring his fried rice around in the plastic container.

“So, we have a crime show, some uh - oh, okay, that's a sex product, an infomercial, the credits of Harry Potter, another crime show -”

Gavin watches as the rice rolls off his plastic fork. “Your choice.”

It remains on the crime show, and Gavin continues to watch in silence. Ryan snickers at a few parts, makes some comments - “ _this criminal fucking sucks at trying to frame someone else, come on it's so obvious”_ and “ _look if you're going to go out in a blaze of glory it actually has to look like you tried.”_ Usually Gavin would join in on the commentary, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind.

Gavin doesn't even notice that Ryan's finished his container until he's setting it down on the table. Gavin eats a lot slower, only half done with the container. His hunger from before vanished after about one mouthful.

Ryan casually flings an arm around the back of the couch. It's not touching Gavin, and he knows that if he shows any discomfort Ryan will move his arm without a second thought.

 _But it's nice_ , he thinks, and only after a few moments he turns so that his back is more to Ryan, then leans back into the other’s side, knees drawn up near his chest.

He continues to eat, finishing as another episode of the crime show begins its opening. Ryan takes the container from his lap, moving it to the table.

“Geoff’s not gon’ be happy with the rubbish,” Gavin mumbles, but Ryan is able to hear it.

“Hey hey, he tried to pour fucking Diet Coke into the fuel in my bike a few days ago, I'm sure he won't mind,” Ryan answers all cheerily, which is honestly more terrifying to Gavin than if he were to say it darkly.

It falls into silence again, but it's a lot more comfortable than earlier. Gavin watches the TV, but is barely taking in anything that's being shown. It hits an ad break, and Gavin sighs before leaning back more into Ryan, taking a moment to think before he opens his mouth.

“We were on the heist,” Gavin says quietly, but by the way Ryan tilts his head just a little, Gavin knows he's listening.

“We were separated and uh - I'm pretty sure the building exploded. I can't remember why. And you uh, you ended up on the floor next to me and -”

He stops himself, laughing mirthlessly. “This is stupid. It was just some buggering dream. You're not _dead,_ and now my sleep is screwed up all over again.”

Ryan’s silent, his arm dropping from around the back of the couch to be around Gavin. His fingers start drumming against Gavin, who initially squirms against the ticklish feeling.

“It's a risk,” Ryan says, quietly, “It's always a risk, when we go out there. A lot of shit can go wrong, and we know it. A deal can fall through, a parachute can stop working, getting caught by the cops.”

“But it's a risk we always take. I mean, I'm pretty sure the reason we do this shit is to have a chance at that risk - and so far, we’ve come out on top every time. Of course, there's always a chance that one day we won't,” Ryan continues, Gavin sitting silently.

“You're a great load of support, aren't you,” Gavin grumbles after a few seconds, realising Ryan hasn't got anything else to add.

“I do my best,” Ryan immediately fires back, but then lets out a heavy sigh.

He taps Gavin on the shoulder, who takes his cue to turn around to face Ryan, who's currently looking all serious - though, thankfully, not _Vagabond_ serious.

“Look, I can't say it won't happen. That your dream won't ever become reality. It might, if fate is that much of a bitch. But right now, it hasn't. Also if it does happen, you’re some kind of psychic, so that’s cool.” Ryan gives him a quick smile before cupping Gavin’s cheek and leaning forward to kiss him.

There's a lingering taste of honey chicken on his lips, and Gavin decides it's a good enough excuse if he's asked why he decides to grab Ryan’s jacket and pull him closer.

Ryan pulls back a little, disconnecting their lips, but with Gavin still grasping Ryan’s jacket. Ryan is smiling, and Gavin now is too.

“We’re sitting right here, together, and everything's going pretty okay,” Ryan mumbles, as Gavin drops his head between Ryan’s shoulder and neck. “There's never a good reason to be thinking about _what-ifs_ and _could-be_ ’s.”

Ryan reaches a hand up and runs his fingers through Gavin’s hair, softly rubbing his fingers in circles.

“Don't you agree?” Ryan asks, and Gavin just nods into his shoulder.

Ryan lets him sit there for a few minutes, but then gently nudges him up.

“I have to wash this off, I'll be back in a couple of minutes, alright?”

Gavin watches him get up and leave, flicking the lights off, and he sighs as he leans back into the couch. There's a firefight happening on the show, and he ends up watching it on his side as he curls into himself, leaving space for Ryan at his feet.

Ryan returns as the aftermath of the firefight is being surveyed by the characters on the screen. He stands in front of Gavin’s view for a moment, blocking his line of the TV, and Gavin notices that he's changed into sweatpants.

“Other side,” Gavin says to him, looking up as best he can to see Ryan’s face. It's too dark to see if he's even properly washed off his face paint.

“Up,” Ryan says after a moment, and Gavin just groans as he shuffles himself further down towards the other end of the couch, doing his best to lift up his upper body.

Ryan sits down on the couch next to Gavin’s head, moving quickly to slide a pillow under his head. Gavin settles into the pillow as he feels Ryan’s hand move back to his stroking his head.

Ryan resumes to calling out his commentaries about the TV show, and even the adverts, and Gavin remains silent, watching with heavy eyelids.

He doesn't really want to fall asleep, not yet, but he can feel his eyes closing for longer whenever he blinks, and he feels too heavy to bother moving.

But he's _safe,_ he tells himself. He's with Ryan.

And everything is, really, going pretty okay, as he had said.

He sleeps easy this time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I'mma leave this here. Thanks for reading <3


End file.
